


Tomb Raider: The Strider Experience, starring Jake English

by benrumo



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Robots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-10
Updated: 2011-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benrumo/pseuds/benrumo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk Strider has been lusting after a certain Jake English for far too long. Now that they've finally met in person, he thinks he's got a plan to get a piece of that curvaceous rump, a plan involving exploiting Jake's love for shitty adventure films with some lights, cameras, and sexy action poses. Not to mention a pair of super short shorts, just perfect for wearing with an authentic sexy thighstrap double holster. But is AR going to be the wingman or the cockblock to this most ingenious of schemes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomb Raider: The Strider Experience, starring Jake English

Your name is Jake English and you are currently being propositioned by your best friend, Dirk Strider.

“Come on, dude. You won’t regret it.”

“I don’t know, Strider. This seems a bit…”

“What?”

“Well… You know.”

“No, I don’t know. I’m not a mind reader, Jake. You’re going to have to spell things out a little more clearly if you want me to follow along.”

“I just don’t want to offend you.”

“Offend me? Why would anything you have to say offend me? I only spent three weeks working non-stop on putting this stuff together exactly to match your godawful taste in shitty adventure films, all because I wanted to make the dreams of my best buddy Jake come true.”

“Oh, damn it all! This is exactly what I was talking about! Sometimes you can be so…”

“So what, Jake? Sensitive to my best  bro crushing my fragile heart under foot like it’s a car in a compactor? Damn, you’re right, dude. I should totally not give a shit about how you’re throwing this homebrewed gift I made with my own precious sweet, blood, and tears back in my face like it’s a pair of your grandma’s pantaloons. Know what? The next time I get the impulse to do something nice for you, I’ll channel that energy into building myself a robo-heart of steel instead, just so I don’t embarrass either or us by being so awkwardly sensitive anymore.”

“Please don’t get upset! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Oh, yeah? What’d you mean it like then, Jake?”

“I just…”

You fidget nervously and feel a bead of sweat forming on your brow. That Strider has a talent for getting well under your skin.

“You know what? Don’t even bother, Jake. I hear what you’re saying loud and clear. I’m just going to pack up my shit and go back to my own land. Maybe hit up Lalonde for a stiff drink on the way.”

“Wait! Strider, please don’t be rash!”

“I’m not being rash, bro, I’m being honest. Maybe you should try it out sometime instead of tiptoeing around my delicate feelings like a bull in a china shop.”

“I don’t want you to leave!”

Strider pauses.

“Prove it.”

Oh, blast! Your fidgeting wracks up another several notches on the fidget-o-meter as you shift from one foot to another, contemplating just how far you’re willing to go to assuage the wounds you unintentionally afflicted on your bosom buddy.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“I’ll wear them.”

“Don’t force yourself just to make me feel better. That’s not why I brought them over. I just figured you might jump on the opportunity to fulfill one of your long-standing fantasies.”

“I would of course enjoy the opportunity! Truly, Strider, I would! I was just a bit hesitant to jump, for which I sincerely apologize.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“I said I was sincere, and I meant it.”

“So, you really do want to wear them?”

Strider holds out the aforementioned garment like a tantalizing and forbidden fruit. You believe you can feel a drop of sweat sliding down your spine at the thought of actually giving in to this insane request. He is right to question your sincerity, but what is the true measure of a man, his insecurities or his ability to conquer them through action?

“Of course!” you say without a single shred of outer hesitation. “Give them here.”

“Well, if you insist.”

You’re not quite sure how to interpret the look on your chum’s face as he hands you the object of discussion, but it makes you feel very much out of your depth. You assume Strider has that affect on most people.

“You just gonna stand there, or are you going to put those babies on?”

“You mean right here?”

“Jake, we’re in the middle of a goddamn cave. Where else would you go?”

“Well, I suppose that is a valid point…”

“It’s the only point. Where did you even learn a sense of modesty? This is a deserted island. Don’t tell me your grandma was that old-fashioned. Man, what’s the point of escaping civilization if you’re not going to live life on the wild side, letting it all hang free when you feel like?”

“For your information, Mr. Strider, my grandmother was very capable of living life on the wild side! It is truly a shame she passed on before you got a chance to meet her. She could have taught you a thing or two, that’s for certain!”

“What was that? I think I hear the sound of somebody procrastinating. Come on, dude. Strip for me.”

“What?”

Your face feels to be burning with an incredible intensity. You are most assuredly blushing a vibrant hue that your sun-darkened skin is no doubt incapable of hiding.

“What do you mean, what? We’re on a schedule here, English. Maybe you forgot, but it is kind of the end of the world and everything. We don’t have all day for you to primp. Slip those bad boys on so we can get these cameras rolling.”

“T-turn around,” you request.

“Seriously, dude. It’s not like you’ve got equipment down there I haven’t seen before.”

“I would sincerely hope that you haven’t had the opportunity to view what… equipment I have down there, and I’d like to keep it that way!”

“Alright. Touchy, touchy. See this? I’m turning. Can’t see your precious junk at all.”

“Do you swear?”

“I swear! Jegus, Jake, it’s like you think I’ve got nothing better to do with my time than think of inventive ways to peep at your prepubescent wang.”

You turn around as well (just in case!), and do your best to ignore Strider’s presence, even as he continues to lament over your perceived lack of faith in him and his consuming ironic interests. This task quickly proves to be incredibly difficult as you catch your reflection in the deactivated brobot’s red shades. Oh, frig! You can see your own curvaceous, bare rump, exposed as you are with your shorts half-down. It does nothing to help your current trouble controlling your perspiration!

“Do I need to remind you that we’re on a schedule, Jake? AR’s acting as my secretary right now, and let me tell you, that little guy is just about to flip his shit. He says you’ve got just about three nanoseconds to get those shorts on and be ready for action if we’re going to do this. So tell me Jake, are we going to make this miracle happen?”

“Why don’t you turn around and see for yourself?”

#

Your name is Dirk Strider, but you’re 100% certain that you were just saddled with such a horrible name to keep the universe from imploding under critical amounts of cool. You prefer being called by your last name, Strider, though you have been known to let those closest to you address you as Bro. Capital B-Bro, and not simply the slang term. It is how your older brother, the ironically famous Dave Strider, has always addressed you.

Much to your misfortune, the one person you really wish would address you as Bro has an aggravating tendency to call you by your first name. As if he really is that loathe to have any sort of perceived familial or familiar connection with you.

But right now you are finding it difficult to care how he addresses you. Or even if he addresses you. Just so long as he stays within your general proximity, you are pretty much OK with him doing whatever the hell he wants.

You watch, transfixed, as Jake slips on the AUTHENTIC TOMB RAIDER SEXY THIGHSTRAP DOUBLE HOLSTER, complete with cool skullbuckle and everything, over the spandex shorts you recently presented him with. You like to think he pulls it off as well as Croft herself, but you freely admit your opinion may be a bit biased. You really don’t find Angelina Jolie sexy at all, which Lalonde says makes you zo (so*) increabdly gaaay. At this moment, you are willing to agree with her brash assumptions about your sexuality, which is in reality very complex and full of mad subtleties.

Goddamn, that boy. That prime hunk of rump right before your eyes, yet still so incredibly out of reach. It is tantalizing and agonizing. The sight alone is so galvanizing that you think you could just burst out in a rap so phat that Jake would instantaneously realize his long-standing (and long-repressed) bisexual leanings with an intense need to get his mack on with you right then and there.

But you restrain the impulse because you know your buddy Jake couldn’t handle so much concentrated cool. You can barely contain these redonkulous levels yourself. Your body threatens to betray you and deal with the intense pressure in the only way it knows how with each gyrating thrust of Jake’s hips you hopelessly watch as he adjusts the tight straps. It is only through years of mastering control of your own body with your brother’s special Strider training regimen that you’re capable of keeping your cool in this situation.

AR pesters you, dragging your attention away from Jake’s impressive bulge and rump. It’s probably for the best, the best being you keeping this at sub-zero temperatures, but you can’t help but to find yourself a bit irritated with the little guy. This is a common occurrence.

brobot1 [B1] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 2:24

B1: I would just like to throw down a note here reminding you that I am recording all of this from several different angles for your later appreciation.  
B1: There’s no need to try and take the entire splendor in at once.  
B1: In fact, given my knowledge of your physical limitations, I would strongly suggest against allowing your eyes to linger any longer on Jake English.   
TT: You’ve got me there. When did you start recording?   
B1: From the moment we arrived. I didn’t wish to miss anything you might enjoy due to a minor miscalculation of your preferences.   
TT: Cool. Just curious, though, did I tell you to record this? I know I meant to, but I don’t seem to recall actually committing the deed.   
B1: You didn’t, but I assumed you had meant to based on my intimate understanding of your inner neurological workings and acted on that.   
TT: You’re the best, little man. Hope you know that.   
B1: Of course. I am basically fucking you, after all.

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering brobot1 [B1]

You take a moment to reflect on AR’s final line as you start laying the master plan out for Jake. Your skills are so radical that you can manage the multi-tasking. And, well, to be completely fair, as much as you worship (or, more accurately, lust after) the ground Jake walks on, you can admit that carrying on a conversation with him doesn’t require massive amounts of brainpower. Not that you see that as a negative thing. Not everybody can be the intellectual powerhouse that you are, and you like Jake for who he is, no improvements needed. But if he was a light bulb you’d be a green sun.

You’re going over the various set pieces with him when you realize that AR’s text is bugging you because it reeked of sentimentality. Try as he might, the little guy just hasn’t truly grasped the finer points of subtle irony. Mechanically, he’s more or less there. But the mechanics are the easy part. They’re also unfortunately the only part that the little guy is naturally suited to. The line, “basically fucking you,” is a well-worn phrase of AR’s. In fact, you’d guess it’s probably one of his favorite things to say. The little guy has a certain penchant for puns. It’s not obvious when he’s talking to the others. No, then he’s trying too hard to be you. But when it’s just the two of you, you’ve noticed he’s started to develop little quirks and preferences of his own.

You couldn’t be more proud, but you can’t let your joy for the little dude distract you from keeping a close eye on his developments. After all, you’re directly responsible for his existence. You’re not going to fuck this up by being a negligent asshole.

Decoding AR’s sentiments isn’t that difficult once you know where to look. Here, it’s not so much in the words as the intent behind them. Why exactly did AR throw that phrase out there? There’s his obvious favoritism, but you suspect that’s not all there was to it. Definitely not all there was to it.

You contemplate the matter more deeply, devoting your full attention to it as Jake reads over the script. Yep, there’s no doubt in your mind. The little guy is throwing a temper tantrum. He definitely isn’t happy with this master plan of yours, and you’re pretty damn sure it’s all your fault for being an insensitive cad. Again.

You suddenly find yourself with a conflict of interests, as well as yet another aggravatingly metaphysical argument on the free-will of a creator’s creation.

You could try to talk AR down, but you’re pretty sure that’d be an abuse of your power. It’s in his programming to do whatever he thinks will please you, a fact which you’ve lamented since the dawn of his creation. Asking him to change his mind would be in essence trumping his free will, or, in simpler terms, a clear abuse of your power as his creator. You can’t just ask him to change his mind without forcing him to change his mind. As much as you don’t want it, you’ve got a power over him that you don’t have over a human being, and you’ve got to be careful to remember that when talking to him. Any show of preference becomes a show of force, because it’s in his nature to _need_ to conform to yourpreferences. Abusing that, even accidentally, would be borderline perverse.

But you really, _really_ don’t want to back out now. Jake’s prime ass is practically begging for a good groping, or at the very minimum to get some screen time while in one or several suggestive action poses. And you have put a hella lot of work into this scheme, maybe too much to flush down the drain just because your main man is feeling a little put out.

Yet the nagging voice in the back of your head keeps reminding you that forcing AR to go along with this when he’s clearly in opposition, no matter how gently or unintentionally you force him, is just as bad as asking him to stop having real emotional reactions.

It’s hard being the creator of a sentient being. It’s hard, and no one understands.


End file.
